To The Christians
TAKE, then, your paltry Christ,
Your gentleman God.
We want the carpenter's son,
With his saw and hod.
We want the man who loved
The poor and the oppressed,
Who hated the Rich man and King
And the Scribe and the Priest.
We want the Galilean
Who knew cross and rod.
It's your 'good taste' that prefers
A bastard 'God!'
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Related quotes
Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christ For President
Let's have Christ our President
Let us have him for our king
Cast your vote for the Carpenter
That they call the Nazarene
The only way
We could ever beat
These crooked politician men
Is to cast the moneychangers
Out of the temple
Put the Carpenter in
Oh it's Jesus Christ our President
God above our king
With a job and pension for young and old
We will make hallelujah ring
Every year we waste enough
To feed the ones who starve
We build our civilization up
And we shoot it down with wars
But with the Carpenter
On the seat
Way up in the capitol town
The USA
Be on the way
Prosperity bound
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Country Gentleman
Country gentleman walked a crooked mile,
Got our money in his pocket.
Did it all with a very handsome smile.
Now, he's livin' it up in a great big office.
He ain't a-gonna help no poor man.
He ain't a-goona help no poor man.
He ain't a-gonna help no poor man.
He's just gonna help his rich friends.
He ain't a-gonna help no women.
He ain't a-gonna help no children.
He's just gonna help his rich friends.
Country gentleman, we see him on T.V.,
Glad handin' folks and chattin' to the nation.
We never knew what really to believe.
Just word upon slogan with emotional connection.
Chorus:
He ain't a-gonna help no poor man.
He ain't a-gonna help no children.
He ain't a-gonna help no women.
He's just gonna help his rich friends.
And in the papers all we'd ever read is
So and so big-shot signed his resignation.
Now, country gentleman he wants us to believe
That he's kind and honest with the best intentions.
Chorus
Country gentleman, now there's a bird that flew
High above his nation, prayed on its weakness.
Picked our bones and threw it in his stew.
Thank God he went back to California.
Chorus
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Food and taste
There is good food and good bed.
There is fine wine and fine tune.
By is a cute lady with a melody.
You, as a king, are restless to taste.
The sword of Damocles hangs there.
The poor have taste, no means.
The rich have means, no taste.
17.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Nasty Situation
Jesus was a carpenter
Who made things out of wood,
He should have stayed a carpenter,
It would have done Him a lot of good,
Instead He started preaching
And making quite a fuss,
So they handed Him over to the Romans
Who nailed Him to a cross.
The trouble with the Pharisees
Is they're Politically Correct,
They exterminate their enemies,
But what did you expect?
The moral of this story
Is stay clean with the Law,
'Cos even if you're the King of Glory
Two plus two makes four!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Prophet, Priest And King
An Angel came to shepherds at night with Good News in which to bring,
A Savior’s been born to you today, who is a Prophet, Priest and King.
The shepherds filled with great joy praised The Lord from the start,
Mary hearing them praise her boy, pondered these things in her heart.
Visiting the Temple at age twelve Christ spoke with much insistence,
And speaking to Mary would tell her He’s about His Father’s business.
For Christ was not just another man but He is Almighty God Incarnate,
He was sent into The Holy Land and revealed as God’s final Prophet.
He was spoken of by Moses as the prophet like him, who would come,
And this Prophet knows all about us for He is God’s One and Only Son.
Many men were prophets in the past and used by God as He had willed,
And Jesus, my friend, was the last, as prophecy in Him was fulfilled.
The Old Testament economy of then since that time, friend has ceased,
And Jesus is now The Way for all men, from the greatest to the least.
No longer one ordained by men, Christ is our Heavenly Eternal Priest,
He is the final Priest my friend, to bring all men God’s Eternal peace.
The Jews mocked Jesus as a king, but that is exactly what Christ is,
And He’s coming back as Eternal King, with all those He knows as His.
He is the final revelation from God no matter what this world thinks,
And He’s coming with an iron rod to reign as Lord and King of Kings.
Bastard
Out go the lights
In goes my knife
Pull out his life
Consider that bastard dead
Get on your knees
Please beg me, please
Youre the king of sleaze
Dont you try to rape me
(chorus)
Bastard
Consider that bastard dead
Bastard
Wont get screwed again
Whoa! whoa!
Bastard
Make it quick, blow off his head
Got your neck in the noose
I got nothing to loose
Were really gonna screw you
Consider that bastard dead
Quick as a shark
Beast has its mark
You cant beat the dark
Dont you try to rape me
(chorus)(solo)(chorus)
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have a taste
Have a taste
King's cake is here
Our king is
The king of good times
So-called corrupt free
Dinner per plate
8000 Indian rupees
India is a poor and
Developing country
And here nothing is expensive.
Come and have a taste
This is king's cake
If you are not in
Corruptions and scams
It is not for you.
You have right to live
You have right to privacy
You have right to live with dignity
Wrongs of the right
And see cancer has
Already attacked our
Body politic.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Real Meaning Of Life
The real meaning of present life, begins at The Cross of Christ,
The cross on Mount Calvary, where Christ died for you and me,
Anywhere you travel on this sod, the Cross points men to God,
With a meaning far much higher, than any human earthly desire.
The Cross, purposed in this life, for man's Savior, Jesus Christ,
For the earthly life of Christ Jesus, not for Him, but for all of us,
His purpose came with a price, which was to be God's sacrifice,
As The Lord God purposed for Him, to be The Lamb for our sin.
Christ's example is for all men, in this world, God did condemn,
After sin had entered the earth, then The Lord put down a curse;
With a plan God had initiated, in a place where Christ was hated,
Crying for Him to be crucified; for them and All, Christ had died.
The Lord had left Heaven's majesty, to die for sinners at Calvary,
Surrendering His life for sinful man, all part of God's eternal plan,
Where Christ became sin for us, so we could gain righteousness,
This that through Jesus Christ, fallen man could attain eternal life.
For believers now on this earth, our present life has eternal worth,
Now with that promise of paradise, we are to be a living sacrifice,
Surrendering to God, all our life, to be witnesses for Jesus Christ,
So others, by the Cross of Calvary, may also secure life eternally.
Poem: Song to the Holy Cross
The cross of love:
The cross I love:
The cross I'd loved all life;
The wooden cross:
The holy cross:
The cross that bore man's strife.
The oaken cross:
The heavy cross:
The cross Jesus carried;
The cross on which
Christ Lord was nailed:
And bore man's sins indeed.
The cross of death:
The blood-stained cross:
The Savior, man, redeemed;
The cross of life's
Victory o'er death:
That souls on earth must heed.
poem by John Celes
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The Cross
Two fallen twigs when kept across
Can form a cross;
Two blades of grass just put cris-cross
Becomes a cross.
Two fingers placed atop the next
Looks like a cross;
A wire-mesh has umpteen crosses,
Like stars the sky across.
The cross is symbol of Christians;
The cross is pride of all baptized;
The cross instills love of Jesus;
The cross is feared by all devils!
The cross is sign of faith in God;
The cross means sacrifice like Christ;
The cross reminds of victory over death;
Carry your cross and follow Christ.
The cross can save the worst sinner;
The cross is sign of after-life;
The cross means Christ is Son of God!
The cross leads always to heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-30-2009
poem by John Celes
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The Iron Cross
THEY pass, with heavy eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross,
The Nations, stricken with their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
What is the prayer they pray to Him,
Christ Jesus on the Iron Cross?
The Christ, neglected, dark with moss,
Whose hands are pierced, whose face is grim.
Is it forgiveness for great sin
They plead before the Iron Cross?
Or for some gift of gold or dross?
Or battle lost, that they would win?
With eyes where hate and horror meet,
They pass before the Iron Cross,
The Cross, that ancient words emboss,
Where hangs the Christ with nail-pierced feet.
His hair is fallen on his face.
His head hangs sidewise from the Cross —
The Crucified, who knows all loss,
And had on Earth no resting place.
'O world of men,' he seems to say,
'Behold me on your Iron Cross!
To me why kneel and tell your loss?
Why kneel to me and weep and pray?
'Have I not taught you to forgive?
And bade you from my Iron Cross
Believe, and bear your grief and loss,
That after death you too may live?
'You have not followed at my call!
You keep me on this Iron Cross,
And pray me keep you from all loss,
And save and comfort you withal.—
'You ask for love, and hate the more! —
You keep me on this Iron Cross!—
Restore to me my greater loss,
The brotherhood of rich and poor.'
They pass, with weary eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross —
The Nations, wailing of their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Jesus Christ
Written by Woodie Guthrie
One, two, three, four
Well Jesus was a man
Who traveled through the land
A hard working man and brave
Well he said to the rich 'Give your money to the poor'
For they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
For they layed Jesus Christ is his grave
Well he went to the preacher
He went to the law
And told them all the same
He said sell all your jewelery and give it to the poor
For they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
For they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
When Jesus came to town all the working folks around
Believed what he did say
Well the bankers and the preachers
They nailed him on a cross
For they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
And [hard] working people
They followed him around
They sung and shouted gay
Well the cops and the soldiers
They nailed him in the head
And they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
Oh, hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
For they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
For they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
Well this song was written in New York City
A rich man, preacher and slave
Well if Jesus was to preach while he preached in Galilee
They would lay Jesus Christ in his grave
One, two, three, four!
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
For they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
Hale, halelujah
For they layed Jesus Christ in his grave
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life of St. Padre Pio of Pietrelcina (in verse)
A baby boy was born
To peasants, one fine morn;
And christened Francesco,
A day after birth, Oh!
Much pious was the lad,
In world so very bad;
He prayed a lot in life,
And didn’t mind any strife!
He loved to be a priest,
And work for Jesus Christ;
And loved the cassock brown
Of Capuchins in town!
He talked with Christ each day,
And guardian angel Fay;
And Mother Mary too –
His duty well, to do!
He joined the Friary,
As per his wish-diary;
And took his priestly vows,
In Capuchin’s main House!
He lived a humble life,
Despite his sickness rife;
And saw Christ in his dreams:
All crucified, it seems!
He chose the suff’ring way;
And so, in illness lay;
He took the prayer-key,
Opening Eternity!
God gave him unique gifts,
And spiritual uplifts;
He wrought miracles great,
And kept soul like clean slate.
He was a good preacher;
He was a good teacher;
And said the Holy Mass;
Heard confessions, Alas!
He loved the Holy Cross;
Christ Jesus was his boss;
He prayed the Rosary
Fervently to Mary.
He lived to ripe old age,
And turned to be a sage;
They saw him in places
Afar, with love’s gazes.
He used to tell others:
Pray, Hope – sisters, brothers;
And don’t worry at all:
God lifts you if you fall.
‘Confess your sins’, he said;
‘Fill soul with grace instead;
Avoid Almighty’s rod,
And take more souls to God.’
Christ’s stigmata, he had:
The wounds painfully bled;
But just before his death,
They healed with his last breath!
Christ’s stigmata, He bore,
For fifty years or more;
The crucifix, he held
All life, as God’s love welled!
Close to his heart, the Cross –
Yes, Jesus was his boss!
His love of God was great;
For sins, he had a hate.
A poor friar, he was,
And toiled for divine cause;
Despite a not good health,
But virtues – his one wealth!
God made him ‘Blessed’ soon,
And canonized him – boon
To Capuchin’s order,
That spread his good odor!
Even the earth, may be,
Without the sun surely;
But Holy Mass is one
Sacrifice of God’s Son!
Lovingly dedicated to St. Padre Pio
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-20-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm closer to being happy. I'm doing things that make me happy. In football I loved to practice and I loved to play, but I hated to be in meetings, hated to talk to the media, hated to have cameras in my face, hated to sign autographs. I hated to do all those things.
quote by Ricky Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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‘He came unto His own, and His own received Him not’
As Christ the Lord was passing by,
He came, one night, to a cottage door.
He came, a poor man, to the poor;
He had no bed whereon to lie.
He asked in vain for a crust of bread,
Standing there in the frozen blast.
The door was locked and bolted fast.
‘Only a beggar!’ the poor man said.
Christ the Lord went further on,
Until He came to a palace gate.
There a king was keeping his state,
In every window the candles shone.
The king beheld Him out in the cold.
He left his guests in the banquet-hall.
He bade his servants tend them all.
‘I wait on a Guest I know of old.’
‘’Tis only a beggar-man!’ they said.
‘Yes,’ he said; ‘it is Christ the Lord.’
He spoke to Him a kindly word,
He gave Him wine and he gave Him bread.
Now Christ is Lord of Heaven and Hell,
And all the words of Christ are true.
He touched the cottage, and it grew;
He touched the palace, and it fell.
The poor man is become a king.
Never was man so sad as he.
Sorrow and Sin on the throne make three,
He has no joy in mortal thing.
But the sun streams in at the cottage door
That stands where once the palace stood.
And the workman, toiling to earn his food,
Was never a king before.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Good Friday...
Behold the wood that went to make the cross
That bore the Saviour Lord, King Jesus Christ:
The holy cross at Calvary on which
Was hung, the Redeemer of mankind race!
That man was only Son of God in flesh,
Who suffered, shed His precious blood as price
For every sin of everyone on earth,
Of Adam and of Eve in lineage!
It wasn’t about the cross that Jesus bore;
It was about the One who hung on it!
He came to earth as Mary’s baby boy,
And gave to men the Good News, peace and joy!
The cross of wood assumed significance
When Jesus died upon it for our sins;
The sacrifice supreme was love of God
For creature man of clay whom He had made!
When Christ resurrected upon third day,
And won o’er death and satan for all times,
The holy cross became the weapon sole
That scares away the devils back to hell!
The cross became the symbol of Christians,
Reminding man of Salvation for all,
As Christ had paid the price on our behalf,
And turned to be the Truth, Light, Way to God!
The holy cross beckons each one of us
To take up each one’s cross and follow Christ;
It is the only hope for all mankind
As life on earth becomes so meaningful!
God’s Love was born on Christmas day as Christ!
Man’s sins nailed Him to death upon the cross!
Christ’s obeisance to Father freed mankind
If repentant, from Fiery Pit of hell!
Reflect on passions Christ had undergone,
Before He died upon the holy cross;
Follow His teachings and precepts for man;
Heaven is nigh for sinners penitent!
(22-04-11)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tears of the poor
Tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich.
Shedding of blood
Rich man's headache,
Poor men's justice.
Water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish,
Fire is the only solution
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is lover's desire
Poor men's unbearable pain.
Din is the only right choice
To put forth your demand.
Dew is the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and the king,
Morning is the 1st step
Of that poor men's sufferings.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Today... 'Christ the King of Israel
Rejected and spurned they just would not receive
Him as Christ the king and they did not believe.
but there they crucified Him upon that hill
and platted a crown of thorns mocking Him still.
Reviling him they began to rant and rave.
'He saved others but Himself He cannot save'
All those that had preferred Barabbas instead.
'Let Him descend down now from the cross, ' they said.
We hear the God of heaven look down and say
'My King reigns upon My holy hill this day.'
For Jesus Christ is the King of Israel
and the King of all other nations as well.
(see also the additional information below in the Poet's box)
Living With a Heavy Heart
Do you have a loved one who doesn’t know The Lord?
Friend it isn’t any fun picturing them in Hell forevermore.
The end for all is very real, my friend, make no mistake.
Even with a strong appeal, The Lord they could forsake.
However Jesus died for all, even those who don’t believe,
And ever since the fall, Satan’s been working to deceive.
But Christ will not forsake you, once He lives in your heart.
Your former life He knew, but from you Christ won’t depart.
He cleanses you at the cross washing away all guilty stain,
Although you once were lost, Jesus’ death is now your gain.
But some family my friend, still will chose the opposite way,
And if left alone, in the end, there’s an eternal price to pay.
You live with a heavy heart, as you shared The Only Way,
For they simply want no part no matter what you do or say.
You may not truly understand why they don’t seem to care.
So lift up with holy hands their name to God in quiet prayer.
In Heaven if you don’t see a loved one waiting for you there,
Friend I ask of you please don’t think that God doesn’t care.
For Christ will wipe away for you every tear from your eyes,
For it was for loved ones too, that upon that cross He died.
(Copyright ©07/2004)